Ivy Rises
by MeirArmor
Summary: Doctor Lillian Irving gets a wake up call when her simple experiments are actually the beginnings of the infamous Venom. When Bane realizes the potential of the young brunette, does he kill her once she's concocted a perfect batch, or has he found a new use for her? Bane/IVY
1. Prologue

Bullets flying through the air.

Bombs going off in the distance.

Cars zooming by, running over bodies, dead and alive.

Screams of anger, pain, fear, adrenaline, and victory.

The agents of chaos have succeeded. The man who sought to eradicate Gotham of its impurity and crime, has won.

The Batman is dead.


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first story on here so I'd appreciate some feedback of any kind (hopefully positive, fingers crossed) but this story will include some major spoilers from the latest Dark Kniget film, probably later on once I establish characters and what not. So you have been warned! But I might include another AN if there is spoiler in a certain chapter. I'll just have to remember. Anyway, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I more than likely do not own it. **

****Chapter 1

"You're dangerous."

"Excu-what? I-I don't quite," I let out a shaky breath. Licking my lips, which tastes like my ruby red lipstick, I continued. "Charlie..."

"No, no. Lilly, you're dangerous. You really are, whether you like it or not. You've got problems, love." His hazel eyes danced around the dimly lit restaurant before landing on his perfectly tanned hands. "You've been more invested in your little hobby-"

"Experiments." His eyes snap up to meet my own green.

"Pardon?"

"It isn't a hobby, I'm conducting _experiments_." I snap back quietly.

He shakes his head, "This is what I'm talking about Lills. You're conducting experiments in your bedroom, your kitchen, hell, you might as well be experimenting in the bathroom." By now his voice was more agitated, garnering a few odd looks from the surrounding tables. I rolled my eyes, annoyed at his antics.

"So what, it's my home, I'll do as I damn well please. Now if you wish to end this relationship then I'll be more than happy to oblige. But I'm not going to stop until I find what I'm looking for," I stood up, grabbing my coat and purse. I smoothed out my dress, staring down my now former-boyfriend. "Take care of yourself, Charles."

He scoffed and looked up at me. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am." with that I turn around and exit the expensive restaurant, hailing a cab once I stepped on the side walk.

I've been meaning to end the relationship with Charles. He just seemed too... _Needy_, as of late. I've never been good with people, let alone managing a stable relationship with some hot shot pretentious lawyer. But I must admit, this has been my longest relationship: 3 weeks, 2 days, 5 hours.

Maybe that's my problem. I'm too logical, too scientific, too precise. My excuse for that? Spending 4 years double majoring (while studying virtually everyday in a small library by myself) to end up with two bachelors degrees in medicine and botany, and teaching a class Monday's and Friday's to students at the University of Gotham on Intro to Medicine.

As you can probably tell, I've never had an interest to men. Now I won't go on to say I'm some Mother Teresa, I never dated, never had sex or a kiss. I've done the deed, dated, had a few flings. But I can never make them last; I never seem to be able to emotionally connect with someone, at least not enough to formally say "I like you, a lot" and actually mean it.

"We're here, lady." I look up at the 3 story apartment building. I lived in a nicer part of the city, called Old Gotham. Old style buildings, hardly any violence happens around here. Mostly muggings, but can't complain much. It's better than that shit hole, Narrows.

Handing the bills over to the man I thank him and walk quickly to the front door. I check my phone for the time, noting I have 3 text messages from Charles, and countless voicemails.

I roll my eyes and check my box for any mail. "Have a good night, Lilly?" I turn and see the landlady poking her head out of her door.

I force a smile, "As good as it's gonna be, Mrs. Preston. Have a good night." She waves and I walk up the stairs to the second floor and walk over to my door, 2B.

I turn on the lights once I'm inside and hang up my coat and keys. Passing by the phone I press the blinking red button and listen to my messages.

"Hey! It's me," I roll my eyes knowing who it is. Not many people in town have such a defined Brooklyn, at least not in this town. "Frances... Your friend. Your _only_ friend that's actually a girl." I laugh out loud to this bit. "Anyway, just checking tuh see how your date went. Call me back, _pweeeeeeeze_? 'kay love ya', bye."

**Next new message. **

"Hello Doctor Irving, it's Mark Lovett from ITM. Uhm, I'm a student, not sure if you remember me, maybe not there's a lot of kids..." his voice trails off, I hear him cough lightly. "Yeah, anyway, I had a question about the lesson from today-uhm, Monday-and I was wonder if this Friday, after class I could-er, we could discuss it and what not. Okay, thank you." I chuckle and grab a beer from my fridge, kicking off my heels.

**Next new message. **

"I'm fucking popular aren't I?" I mumble staring outside to the tree obscuring my view of the apartment building across the street.

"Lilly, what the _fuck_? I just tell you the truth and you run off like that? Real mature, babe, real fucking mature." I stick my tongue out, making a face at his voice. "I'll call you tomorrow. I think we can salvage this if we try and compromise."

**No new messages. **

"That was enlightening." I walk over to my bedroom and change into an oversized shirt and stay in my underwear. I finish my drink before pulling out the pins from my brown hair, allowing my scalp to relax after the tension of having a tight up-do most of the evening.

"Seriously how am I dangerous?" I ask myself, out loud. "Idiot. Just because I'd rather spend my time with Bunsen burners and microscopes instead of Brazilian waxing my genitalia every fucking day like a damn porn star, I'm dangerous." I walk out to my living room again and stare out towards the tree again. "I'm a woman of science. Such a mundane life he lives, he'd never understand."

"Holy mother of..." I jump up at the sound of my home phone ringing. I curse under my breath and make my way to the handset. I check the caller ID,

**'Frances Quinzel'**

I groan, answering. "The hell do you want idiot?"

"Meow, babe, no need to get catty. How'd the date go?"

I run my fingers along the phones wooden stand. "It was lovely actually. Took me to that new restaurant, that uptight one you wer-"

"_PARADISO_?!" my hand stopped and I held the phone away from my hear.

"...yeah. That one. Don't interrupt me."

I heard her let out a sigh. "Whateva. Go on."

"Anyway, I ordered the steak with red wine. He got some clam shit, I don't know. Sat me there and started saying I was dangerous. Can you believe it? Just 'cause I've got brains I'm danger."

"You're a bitch, a smart bitch, but that doesn't make you some menace tuh society."

"Thank you! That's what I thought, so I broke up with him and came straight home."

"Yeah, I can see... Wait, _WHAT_!? You broke up with him, right there?"

"Yeah... It's starting to feel like a dumb mistake now." I said closing my eyes.

"It was..." she said, sounding relieved.

"I should've eaten my food first then ended it. Now I gotta cook something for myself." I smirked hearing her swear.

"He could've been useful. He has really resourceful connections, ya know? He could've opened doors, Lills."

Maybe, she has a point. Maybe he could be useful. But who am I kidding? The last thing I want to do is get caught up in another scheme devised by the psychiatrist and get into more trouble. I still have to find a way to expunge that offense from 3 years ago because of her. Who the hell just decided to steal a car? A cop car, when you're drunk. I did the logical thing and drove her home. But nooo, her drunken ass blamed me and said she didn't know what the hell had happened. I hadn't formally known her then, just an intro at some gala the school threw ever-

"Hello? You still there?"

"Huh? Yeah, useful. It's the 21st century, I'm more than capable of opening _my own doors_ thank you. Now, I'm tired. Bye." I set the handset down to its base before I walked to my bed and lied down underneath the white comforter.

Just like every night, in order to fight my insomnia, I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I repeated the process until soon enough, I fell to sleep.


	3. Chapter 2

**Liz: I know that much. Harleen Frances Quinzel and Pamela Lillian Isley aren't based on the comics, which is why I didn't tag it in the comic book section. The whole alias for Ivy and it's reasoning will be brought up later on, as it ties in with what I have planned for this story. Frances isn't a common name for Quinn but I have a few things planned for her also which is why I chose her middle name for Ivy to call her by. I'm basing the characters from what I've seen in movies, some comics and most commentary on them. It is a Bane/OC because it's and I chose to couple Ivy and Bane together. By OC I mean it as 'Other Character', other: not involved in Dark Knight Rises. I'll just change it to Bane/Ivy to avoid any more confusion for anyone else. Anyway if you watch Batman and Robin, Poison Ivy and Bane were accomplices. So the whole Ivy and Bane isn't completely new. All in all, it's my story, I'm playing around with them. And you're basing a review on one chapter. I'm just barely getting started with the story. **

**Superdani: Thank you for your words, I appreciate them very much**.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognise. **

Chapter 2 _It's sinking in now..._

_Orchids? Why would that change the color? Maybe if I had some more water it'll dissolve the solution..._

I pour in more water into the small jar and stir it.

_Pink? Why is this pink now? I placed a blue orchid in why would it make the entire solution pink? This is getting ridiculous. Nothing is making sense. _

"Yoohoo! The doctor is in!" I groan and get up from my bedroom floor, kicking myself for giving Quinzel a spare key.

"Hello sunshine, the world says hello," the blonde opens the curtains, allowing the sun to pour in the small apartment. Inside I feel a bit better allowing the heat inside, but scowl nonetheless.

"Piss off, what do you want?" I ask glancing at the clock. **10:34. **The bitch. "It's my day off, what do you _want_?" She turned around and smiled. She was pretty, smart, but very naive. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body, masters in psychiatry, doctor at Arkham, most notable patients: Joker and Crane.

"Just thought I'd pop on by, see how you were doing and stuff. Haven't talked tuh you since Monday, ya know?" I rolled my eyes, brushing past her to get some cereal and milk.

"I don't have to check in with you. I've just been busy." She flicks an apple jack toward my face. My scowl deepens as I sit down at the table.

"Oh yes you do. Haven't you been watching the news? More dead bodies. They found some teen, or whateva by the-"

"Did you know that everytime you talk about a recent murder in Gotham, a new life is brought into this cruel, sad world?" She sighs, shaking her head.

"I just think it's sad, Lills. They said he was an orphan, I can relate to that you know? The stories I hear in therapy, the way the patients' eyes just go dark," her fountain blue eyes started watering. My lip twitched and I felt empathy for my friend. "Just brings it all back, ya know?"

I finish my mouthful of cereal. "There's people who've gone through worse, and those who continue to bleed and cry because they can't find a way out. No use throwing a pity party about it."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as a few tears escaped her eyes. "Why can't yuh just feel something for once? Why is it always the same stuff, always going 'round making everyone hate yuh?"

I stopped my spoonful of cereal and stared at her. "Do you hate me?"

She stopped glaring and looked at me. "What."

I licked my lips. "Do you hate me?" She blinked away her tears, her eyes still red and slightly puffy.

"No, of course not."

"Then not everyone hates me. Your statement is false." She cracked a smile and giggled. I felt my own lips turn up, only slightly.

"You're hateful, but I love ya. Anyway, what're you doin' tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "Class. Discussion. Lunch. Home. Experimentation."

She laughed out loud. "Oh god, do you ever do something out of the ordinary?" I finished my cereal and started to clean my bowl.

"Once in a blue moon I do something."

"Dance with the devil in the pale moonlight..." I turned towards the blonde, but she wasn't looking at me. She was staring at the wall opposite, as if she were talking to someone. I felt my blood run cold at the look on her face, the way her warm eyes turned cold and lethal.

"Frances?" Her breathing hiked up. "Frances, what's wrong?" She still didn't turn.

"HARLEEN." She stood up quickly and knocked down the wooden chair.

She turned and smiled. Her eyes bordering that familiar look, and the new almost evil one. "Gotta go, duty calls. Call ya' later." With that I heard the door slam. I stood, rooted to my place, not believing what I just saw.

I shook it off and sighed. I walked back to my room, to continue where I'd left off.

"Mark, stay after please." I stated as the class filed out. The young, very timid, man nodded and grabbed his things running down the steps toward my desk.

"Hello, Professor Irving I just wanted to say it was, was a uhm... Good lesson, yes. Learned quite a bit and such, of it all... Yes." He bit his lip and his cheeks turned a rosy pink. He wasn't handsome, but not ugly, an inch or so taller than me, 5'11 probably. Undeniably shy, though. Never speaks in class, never talks to anyone once the bell rings, blushes profusely at the mention of human anatomy (as noted from the first day).

"...thank you. But your question, what was it?" His eyes widened as he dropped his thing to the floor and began rummaging through it. He stood up with a piece of paper, sweat beginning to show on his brow.

"You said, the other day, Monday to be precise. You said that plants and such are very powerful. If one could dissect the proper elements from an organism, you said, they'd be stronger than most on the planet." Curiosity creeped along my skin, as well as caution.

"Yes, but it's impossible. There is no way to create such a serum without it killing its host, or worse, simply not working."

"How would you know?" I felt my green eyes narrow at the man. He gulped. "I mean it respectfully, but how would you know for certain?"

"Experiments, young man. Simple, inconclusive, experiments." I stood up grabbing my briefcase. "If that's all. Have a good day." Brushing past him, I walked to the corridor and made my way to my car, an unsettling feeling of being watched making its way into my core.

_I'm being a fool. _I open the door to my small beat up Volkswagen. _Nothing but a damn fool. _Still, I checked the backseat, locked the doors twice, checked all my mirrors, before pulling out. _Aaaaand I'm paranoid. _


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you to those who've reviewed, favourited, and followed it gives me such joy to know someone's readin. (and enjoying). Anyway, here is Chapter 3. I've tried to portray Bane as closely as I could to him in comics/video games/movies which is hard but it's just a glimpse to a hardened character. Well, the plot begins to brew. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Recognize it? I don't own it .**

Chapter 5_ It's Beginning_**  
**

"...that's all she said." Mark Lovett was his name. 19 years old, single, majoring in biomedical engineering. His sweat was collecting on his brow, but most notably on the arm pits of his pale blue button up shirt.

He's nervous. Afraid. _Sweating_ in fear.

A tall, bulking individual turns around and faces the smaller man. Standing at about 6'3, a mask covering 3/4s of his face, striking fear of the unknown into hisvictims before his strong calloused hands ripped them from reality.

"Mister... Uhm... Sir... Eh I-I did what you..." The tall man quirks an eyebrow, blue-green eyes dance in amusement. Mark takes a deep breath and whimpers quietly. "I did what you said. I asked he-her, sh-she doesn't know. She can't... She wasn't able to. She doesn't _know._"

An airy, almost mechanical laugh escapes the larger man. "She doesn't know? My dear boy," he walks around the whimpering man. "She knows enough. And I believe you've exercised well into your worth. Thank you, but your services will no longer be needed." His voice drew a dark undertone standing behind Mark, whose eyes widened in fear. A definitive crack resonated throughout the room.

"Time for some in depth research..." he picked up the dead mans bag and began rummaging through it, looking for his notes. "Doctor _Irving_? Hmm..." Beneath the mask, a smirk was forming on his scarred lips.

**One New Message**

_"__Okay, you stand me up, __again, __and you continue to ignore my calls. Lillian, I don't know what you're playing at but I think this game is over. I'm done with you. This is the last you've heard of Charles Michael Douglas the Third__."_

Well... I guess we really are over then. Interesting.

I open the curtains and take note of the weather outside. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect day for a blazer though. I smile and turn towards my small kitchen and begin to cook eggs and bacon for myself. Humming I think over my agenda for the day. Having woken up in a good mood for once I can either blame mother nature for my mood swing, or the fact that I have finally taken a break from brooding over my tiresome experiments (not given up, just a small break). So for that, I decided to bug the hell out of Quinzel the entire day, finally returning the favor of her majesty's annoying self. I turn on the television from my seat at the table and flip through the channels.

_Boring... boring... ooo, cartoon... ew, new generation bull shit..._

"Now following the disappearance of the congressman, Commissioner James Gordon has been found outside the very same sewer where just a few days ago a young man was discovered dead. Gordon suffers from a gun shot wound and is undergoing surgery at Gotham General at the moment. Questions are arising whether or not both the young man and the Commissioner were shot by the same person, or if the murder weapon of the first victim was used in this heinous crime. We'll keep you updated as the story develops... Switching gears, here's a look at the fo-"

_"The devil in the pale moonlight..."_

My ears twitched at the whisper. I grip my fork harder looking around, trying to find where it came from, when my eyes land on the chair across from me. The one Frances tipped over before she strode out of my apartment. I feel my eyes widening in fear. Fear for my friend who flipped her shit on me. Fear for myself, the creepy crawly feeling from the day before not fully leaving me (only intensifying at the moment), not even in my sleep did I find an escape.

Frances is treading down a dangerous path; one where I don't know how she found, or what compelled her to such dark depths.

_**3 years ago...**_

_"Can you believe it? He's my first patient! Course I shouldn't be this happy now, but Lill he's a wanted man! And he's all _mine_ tuh dissect!"_

_"How interesting... You should be careful though. He's killed so many already, he could end up mind fucking you or something to kill yourself. He's just _that_ good." Frances rolled her blue eyes, brushing her recently cut short hair to the side. _

_"He's tha Jokestuh. You bet ya ass I'll be careful." she laughed and winked. I couldn't help but feel a slight worry in the pit of my stomach over my friend. _

_**2 years ago...**_

_"Can ya believe it? That's all he kept saying, ovah and ovah."_

_"About the devil in the moonlight?"_

_"No no, dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight. This guy hasn't made sense and it's almost been a year, you would've thought he'd at least open up by now."_

_"Maybe you gotta get personal? Play an even field?"_

"Oh no..." Years later I finally realised my mistake. Harleen Frances Quinzel opened up her fragile heart, and to none other than the infamous Joker. A man no better than Satan himself. And I told her to. I practically fed her to the wolves.

"God no." I throw my fork down and run to my room to get dressed. I had to get to Arkham, I had to make her see sense once again. I had to make sure she didn't do anything stupid. Damn it, if I wasn't so wrapped up in my fucking apartment maybe I would have noticed this sooner. Made sure she didn't do anything like this. But I trusted her, I thought she could handle herself out there in the world. She'd come in every few weeks, say she had aches and pains in her legs, I'd whip up some medicine for her to get better-stronger, and off she'd go. I took care of her.

She's all I have in this world, and I've been failing her. I just give her medicine, alter her immune system, strengthen her body. But I never ask questions. Not once. Now I know I should have. I should have done something. Maybe a batch went wrong and she went coocoo as a side effect? That's normal right? No, no it's not. Not with me. Never with me. I've fucked up. I never fuck up and I did.

I've royally fucked up.

**_Meanwhile..._**

"_The devil in the pale moonlight..._" Quinzel muttered into the small microphone knowing her friend would piece half of the truth in a matter of seconds. But it had to be done. It was all insurance; she had to insure their survival when the fire spread.

She stood next to a dark haired women, whose face was cloaked by a dark hoodie. On her other side, stood the menacing figure from before, hidden in the shadows of the alleyway. They all stared up at an apartment building, hearing noises and cursing coming from the window facing them. A blur of chocolate hair whizzed by every few moments.

"Are you sure it worked?" The women asked Harleen. "She could have easily created an antibody to fight off any form of airborne attack. Especially if it's her own medicine. An accident gone wrong she would need a safety net."

Harleen chortled. "Oh no, not Lilly. She trusts me. Trusts herself tuh not make mistakes too. Just handed me my stuff and off she went tuh her chemistry set. Never would have thought I'd use it against her. Evah. 'Sides she never checks her ventilation system. Won't evah know."

The large man rolled his tense shoulders eyeing the blonde. "Is it a common occurrence for you to betray a loved one? Or just anyone in particular?" She clicked her tongue and faced him.

"No, but I do what I have tuh. It ain't a pretty world out here; survival of the fittest. Darwins Law. I'm just looking out for her. She needs this. You'll see, she's the best for this job. She'll do this right." He leaned in closer to the women. His eyes glistening eerily under the odd lighting, adding an aura of supernatural to his already frightening figure.

"You should pray she does. I will not hesitate to take her life, as I would not should I need to take yours. Or your lovers." Harleen's breath hitched, her frazzled nerves getting the best of her.

"Why I oughta..." She lifted a pale hand to strike him when something held her back. Turning she saw the cloaked woman's smaller hand gripping hers in a vice like manner.

"Oh Bane, don't tease the poor girl. I'm sure this Lillian will prove herself soon enough." The woman then let go and walked gracefully down the alley, sticking to the shadows. Bane stood up to his full grandeur, took a small bow, and turned following after the mysterious woman.

Harleen sighed heavily and felt an aching. _Regret. _Turning she saw her closest friend rushing out of the apartment buildings door struggling to find her car keys.

"You're gonna be amazing, honey. This city is gonna be yours. All _yours_." She smirked excitedly while Lillian drove away. Pushing the feeling out of her system she stood and waited.

A black van pulled up in front of her. "Ey, ready?" She laughed at Mumbles. Nodding she replied with a small yes to her current 'boyfriends' henchman.

"Time we start tuh round up the boys, Mumbles. Mistuh Jay will be making his appearance _very_ soon. Need tuh get it all back to how he used tuh have it. Don't cha agree?" The dark colored man shrugged and continued to drive.

"Oh, this is gonna be so much _fun_..." She began to giggle as she ran her fingers over the 9x19mm Parabellum.

"So much fun." She turned and stated out the window. A slither of her former self staring back at her.

'_Don't do this Harleen. You can stop this nonsense. Call the police. Get Lillian and leave town. Just _don't_ do this.'_

Snarling she cocked the gun and aimed it to her window. "Fuck off." She pulled the trigger, ensuring the destruction of Gotham City as she did so.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for the follows, favourites, and reviews! I apologize for the slow update, a lot came up and I barely had time for myself. Anyway, thank you all for reading, the story is gonna be picking up pace now. Please excuse any grammatical errors. It is 1 in the morning and I'm on pain medication. BTW, minor spoilers in this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I do not own it. **

* * *

Chapter 4 _The Devil_

"Pick up, pick up, pick up..." I continue to mumble to myself as I held the phone to my ear. Maneuvering through Gotham was no easy feat, especially when I had to drive to the outskirts of town.

"_The voicemail you have reac-_" I groan throwing my phone to the passenger seat.

"Fuck you and your fucking voicemail of fucking fuckery motherfucking shit-face asshole," I feel my skin burning from the anger and anxiety. I need to get to her quickly, I need to fix this mess. I never did find out the whole truth behind Frances' past, I always figured she'd tell me when she was ready. What I did know wasn't reassuring, and it added to my worry that whatever she shared with the sociopath was enough ammunition for him to shoot down all her barriers, completely breaking her. It's happened before; easily manipulated people, broken individuals. Having a tragic past, weak self-esteem, a perfect combination to meld someone into their personal guinea pig.

Harleen Quinzel was born 27 years ago on a cold September morning in Brooklyn. She had a relatively normal childhood; stay at home mother, hardworking father—overall stable environment. She was involved heavily in ballet and gymnastics, put in the best private schools the city offered-she had it all. Then, one morning, when she was 16 years old, her father had come home drunk off his hinges. According to police reports, he and her mother were arguing over his lack of responsibility, his mistresses, and the money troubles they were currently enduring. As a result, her mother suffered from contusions caused by her fathers old baseball bat, a collapsed lung, ruptured spleen, three broken vertebrates, dislocated shoulder, broken fibula, and a virtually destroyed pelvic girdle. She eventually bled out after having her throat cut open by one of the kitchen knives. Harleen hadn't even noticed the commotion; she had been listening to her music, as she always did, when they fought. She had fallen asleep, woken up to an empty home, and a dead mother on the living room sofa.

She told me she didn't scream, didn't feel anything. She lied her mother down, kissed her forehead, and covered her in a fuzzy black blanket before phoning the police. They walked in to find her cuddled up next to her mother crying.

The police sent out a bolo looking for her father, but he was never found.

When she had told me this she had a soft smile on her face; the most relaxed I had ever seen her. And then I knew. No one ever found him, because he was dead. She had gotten to him and avenged her mother. She didn't have to say any of that because it was obvious. Obvious to anyone that had loved their mother as much as she had and still did; obvious, because it's what any loyal child would do for their hero, for the one that looked after them when they were sick, sad, or relished in the happiness they felt. She didn't have to say anything because it's what I would have done if I was in her position.

_But I wasn't, I never was._

I run a hand through my hair. I pull out a cigarette from my bag and light her up as I pull into the highway.

After she confided in me with this, she never went into detail to how she ended up in Gotham, where she got her degree, what happened after her parents death. Nothing. Just told me to 'buzz off' when I asked too many questions (which I stopped doing a long time ago), and always told me to call her Frances.

_('My father called me Harleen.')_

"Jesus fucking—MORON!" I yell out my window at the speeding vehicle that cut me off. I flip him off shaking my head. I'm about 10 minutes away from the Asylum when my phone begins to ring. I pull over to the side and reach for it.

'_**Unknown'**_

I look curiously at it before pressing ignore and continuing on. I arrive a few minutes later, with my phone continuing to ring. I walk up the stone steps to the ominously white building. I open the door and am met with a single desk and a woman sitting behind it. Behind her is another door, with two armed guards on each side.

I gulp down my nervousness and approach the brunette. She quirks an eyebrow at me, "how can I help you today?" Her voice puts me on edge. It was too _soothing_. No wonder she works here. Creepy as hell lady, creepy as hell building.

"I'd like to visit someone here... her name is Harlee-"

"Doctors aren't allowed visitors, the patients are." I clench my fist and narrow my eyes as she interrupted me.

"Fine. I'll see the Joker." Her face falls, and she whitens as a sheet. I can't help but feel smug at her reaction. She reached in a drawer, grabbed a plastic pass, scribbled something down in a large leather bound book before handing both over to me.

She handed me a black pen. "Name, date, reason for visiting, and the name of the patient". I quickly wrote all down, faltered a bit when I reached 'patient name' before writing in all caps: JOKER.

I handed it back to her. She motioned for me to go towards the white door. It buzzed and I pushed it open to reveal two metal detectors and more armed guards.

_You'd think this place was an airport in Iraq or something. _

I pass on through after leaving my bag, phone, and shoe laces behind. Apparantly, shoe laces are hazardous and a common cause of death in here.

A young Hispanic man approaches me after waiting a few minutes in what I assume is the employee lounge. He smiles brightly and I stand up to shake his hand.

"Hello, my name is Doctor Manuel Dongo. Please sit," I thank him and take my seat. He sits across from me, crossing his legs. "You've caused quite a stir today, Miss Irving. Tell me, why have you come to see him?"

I tilt my head, confused. "A mutual friend. Doctor Quinzel is his doctor, I'm close with her. I decided to come visit him as a result. I'm sorry, is he not allowed visitors?"

He shakes his head. "No no, he is. Most patients are, unless they misbehave then they are left in their rooms, stripped of these privileges until otherwise noted." he bites his lips and shrugs. "It's just odd seeing as no one has come to visit him in the 8 years he has been with us. Not one single person. Then, out of the blue, you come along. Just... Curious."

"He killed dozens. Manipulated, robbed, mutilated. Has a complete disregard for humanity, or reality for that matter. But, he's locked up. He's in here, where there are beefed up men with intense weaponry. I feel safer here, than out there." I point towards the only window in the room. He nods understandingly. "Now, I just came to see the guy. So may I?" I begin to stand up and he follows suit. I tower over his 5 foot 7 frame and he gulps.

"Right this way..." I smirk following him out towards the hallway. We stop at a gated doorway and he motions towards the camera. It buzzes open and we continue, taking rights and lefts until we reach some stairs. We trek downward and yells are heard.

"You see? YOU FUCKING SEE, MALCOLM? I'll be fine. _Just fine_..."

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Haha! Dust to dust! _Dust to dust._ Dust to dust. Dusttodustdustodust..."

We walk down the hallway, passing by the doors. Some had inmates who were yelling at the top of their lungs, others who were quiet and staring off into nothing.

"This is him." We reach the end of the hallway. Room 303. I look in to see a mop of dirt brown hair atop a pillow. His arms are in a straight-jacket, his back facing the door. Doctor Dongo bangs the metallic white door but he doesn't react. He pulls out a set of keys, opening the door.

"Joker, you have a visitor. Would you mind sitting up and meeting her?" The man continues to lie down, ignoring the doctor.

He sighs. "I'll go get a guard, just in case. If anything happens in the meantime we'll be able to see from the camera," he points up to a black cylinder on the ceiling. "You'll be fine. He's restrained. Legs cuffed to the bed. Just don't get too close." He smiles lightly and leaves, closing the door behind him.

I look around the room. White walls, white sheets on a decent sized cot, a white chair (probably for me), and a desk nailed to the wall. I glance at the newspapers littered on it.

_'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA' _was sprawled all over the first page.

_'WHO'S CATTY CAKES?' _ over a picture of a wanted cat burglar.

'_Soooooo haaaawwwttt XOXO' _over the picture of my ex, Charles. I laugh out loud to the last one. Joker grumbles and sits up facing me.

He looks different, older now than he did when he was striking fear into Gotham as he killed the fake-Batman, blew up a hospital, took over the ferries. He didn't have a trace of make up on, his scars looking more human than monstrous. Not a trace of green on his hair or head. Dark brown, almost black, eyes stared straight into me, analyzing-assessing.

I wasn't afraid of him. Not because he was restrained, not because I was in a guarded facility and he'd be dead within a minute if he attacked me. No, I was not afraid because I knew men like him.

The _crazies. _

Besides, all he had to threaten me with was death. And I knew her better than poor old Quinzel.

"Hello." I smile at him. He doesn't respond, just continues to stare at me. I sit down in the chair still smiling.

"My name is Lillian. I'm a doctor, not yours though. I'm not certified, nor qualified to listen to your troubles in that department." He blinks. No movement, still.

My smile drops. "Okay, I'm not gonna play around then. What've you done to Frances?" No movement.

I sigh. "Why do you have to make this h-"

"Why did you laugh?" I clench my fist. What is it with everyone interrupting me today? I take a breath.

"Pardon?" he sucks on his teeth, straightening up under the jacket.

"You-uh, you _laughed_," he was moving his arms underneath. Before stopping and staring at his desk. "you laughed. Why?"

He had a deep voice when he wasn't trying to intimidate. Raspy a bit, from either screaming or not talking in a while, who knows.

I shrug. "You wrote over the editorial featuring an _ex_ of mine." His black eyes flickered over to mine again before he stretched his lips to a smile. His scars rippled along his cheeks, his eyes crinkled in a menacing manner.

I crinkled up my own face. "Don't do that, you look creepy." He barked out laughing. The same laugh I'd heard on the news was belting out. He leaned forward, wiping his 'tears' with his knee.

"HAHAHAHA." he stomps his foot ceasing his laughter. A smile still planted on his face. "You're, you're _funny_. I love a woman who can make me _laugh._" He cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders.

"_Harleen Quinzel_. Didn't do anything to her. Fine lady, finefinefine woman. She uh... She talks about you. Sometimes. Not a lot. She uh.." he coughed. He lowered his gaze to his bare feet. He smiled wiggling his toes. "Ya know, she's a great doctor. _Really great_. HAHAHA!"

I roll my eyes. "Shut up." he closes his mouth automatically. His black eyes turn molten; he looks beyond pissed.

He licks his lips. "You-you got a, uh, fire. Yeah, a _fire_. Inside. You. Burning up your insides, _twisting everything up. _You know what's gonna happen? Hm? It's gonna spread soon. And you won't be able to stop it. _Harleen_, couldn't stop it. Neither will you. Nope." He popped the 'p' and began laughing again.

"What did you do to her?" I ask my patience deteriorating. I feel the same burning on my skin, and for a second, I agree about the fire. But I quench the thought before it resonates in my head.

He continues to laugh. I rack my brain for questions, information, anything to get him to answer me.

"What about the devil in the pale moonlight?" he stops suddenly and stares at the wall. "Hm, what about the devil in the pale moonlight, Joker?"

He smiles and lies back on his cot. He doesn't respond, doesn't laugh, nothing. Just lies there smiling. I wait 10 minutes before I stand, giving up for the day. It was useless coming here talking to some crazy psycho who obviously is chugging down more pills than food.

"You're all gonna _burn_, doctor." I slam the door shut behind and power walk away from his laughter, the guard-who was outside the door-now at my side.

"She's his now." I stop and turn towards the door. A man with cool blue eyes, full lips, brown hair stares back at me.

"What?" He nods towards the laughing.

"His. Quinzel didn't stand a chance. She got too close, now she's his. Has been for a while actually." I shake my head and face him not believing him.

"And you are?" He smiles sarcastically.

"Doctor Jonathan Crane. Also known as Scarecrow-"

"_SCARECROW! Yoo-Hoo, yoooohoooo!_" Crane rolls his eyes. I bit back a smile at the Joker's antics.

"I'm Doctor Lillian Irving. Now, if you'll excuse me, _Scarecrow-_"

"Oooh, another doctor." I grind my teeth.

"_SCARECROW ARE YOU IGNORING ME, YOU IDIOT? I'M RIGHT HERE, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME-"_

"_Yes. _Goodbye."

"_OH I AM SO TALKING ABOUT THIS DURING GROUP THERAPY TOMORROW!"_

"Don't act so scandalized. Why can't you ever shut-up?! My god, how do they expect me to live under such despicable conditions?"

I giggle silently at their banter and walk out of the hallway. I return the pass, gather my things and walk out to my car. No Frances, no useful information except that she's _his _now.

I roll my eyes at the thought and turn on my phone checking it. 17 missed calls, unknown. I jump as it rings in my hands.

_**'Unknown'**_

I press the green button and lift it to my ear. "Hello?"

"_Jesus, you have a cell phone for a reason sweety. Evah thought of answering it?_"

I sneer at her voice. "What the FUCK, Quinzel? What's going on? I came to the fucking asylum to see your ass-"

"_YOU WHAT?!_'

"YES, I fucking CAME to the ASYLUM looking for _YOU_," by now I'm screaming in my car. Luckily no one is around to stare, or call the cops. "but you weren't fucking HERE. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" I take a breath trying to calm my nerves. She doesn't respond. I look down to check if she's hung up but she hasn't.

"I'm worried about you Frances. Just please, _please_ you have to tell me. What's going on?" I close my eyes, continuing to take deep breaths.

"You're not ready." And then the line went dead.

* * *

"...then we meet back here. Do _not_ get caught. If you are, well, don't bother coming back... Or even existing for that matter." the bald man laughed at his joke. The group of young and old men looked between each other with uncertainty.

Bane had told them of the heist, and they knew death would be the precise punishment should they fail, but none of them thought about it as much as that moment. They would end up six feet under-or just dead. Being buried, in a coffin no less, was a luxury the men in those sewers had no way of obtaining.

Side by side they stood waiting for the call to head out. They each fidgeted with their guns, going over their roles in the plan. Acting out the scene in their heads. They weren't ready, hell, they'd probably never be ready. But they were in too deep. If they didn't follow through, they were dead. If they left, they were dead. If they failed, they were dead.

At the end of the day, they'd be dead.

Resigned to accepting this truth, they nodded at each other and filed out to their own cots and bundles of blankets where they slept. Gathering up the courage they had, they resigned to following behind the man that promised them freedom and a life full of promise.

While the men were outside preparing themselves, Harleen and Bane were in his 'office' going over their own plan.

"She isn't ready. I was wrong. I need tuh push her. She ain't gonna do this on her own. I can figure something out."

"Once Miranda takes over control of Wayne Enterprises, I will bring her here. I do not care if she accepts or not. She will come here, she will make this work, or you all die." The blonde's face paled, but she nodded.

"Good... Now, in about a week or so she will be here. I need you to finish with the dosages by the end of this week. Do you understand that?" He stated, looking hard into the blondes eyes. She nodded once again.

His blue eyes crinkled. "_Splendid. _Have a good evening, Doctor. I hope you enjoy the show." He stood up, grabbed a helmet off his desk and walked away. He whistled for the men to follow him. The rest that stayed behind stared after them with anticipation written all over their faces.

It was starting.


End file.
